Life and art murals, how to live side by side with a pandemic

Did you know, the human brain has the capacity to generate 23 watts of power when awake? That of the total blood and oxygen, the brain gets only 20% of it? These are all facts, but somehow it was hard to comprehend how it can relate to Mai’s death. You say goodbye, you kiss them on the forehead and then they leave. You say prayers on their funeral, you tell them you love them and you believe they are at peace, wherever they are. Sometimes, if you’re lucky you see acceptance and peace in their gaze when they leave, in my case I saw nothing. I just heard words, ‘’it will be okay’’, ‘’don’t forget to take care of yourself,’’ that seemed to bounce off my skull. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye. They weren’t going to let me near her. The most I will get will be a thin voice on the phone, raspy from disuse, miles away while she dies in Lahore.

I said goodbye and sat on my bed, as she was taken off life support. The nurse used her own phone, took time out of her busy schedule so that she has a chance to say goodbye. I’m grateful to her for that. It meant everything.

Growing up, you knew not to point at the papayas or the leeches at the bazaar. They were 50 rupees a gram, apples were only 15 rupees. My mother let me eat them on occasion. She herself however, would stay away. I’m sure she had forgotten how they tasted. How sweet tasted. Hunger makes it taste the same after a while. When we immigrated to USA, my life changed forever. Suddenly there were opportunities that I couldn't have dreamed of before. I could do something about my empty bank account. I had a job. I could work not just dream of good things and watch as they happened to other people

I had control and it was exhilarating. Freedom was taking a trip to the Mcdonalds at 1 am because you woke up craving food. It was petrol in the car, it was a new dress. Growing up the way I did, I felt guilty for being happy. There were too many responsibilities, too many people to take care of. Expectations were too heavy on my back. Grades were life or death, but even education didn't guarantee a job.

Gradually I learned, that to be happy you need to make effort first. While I was studying as a Biomedical engineer, my mother suddenly got ill. Then the covid-19 pandemic raged it's ugly head, and the world around me changed.

From the city of Honk Kong, an artist painted this beautiful mural of a sikh man wearing a mask while he seems to look on, as people in the streets go by with their lives. Right beside it, a pregnant women walks on. It's a frightening time to be pregnant, and I pray all the women who are currently vulnerable due to their pregnancy stay safe.

And of course one of my favourite. A nice toilet paper covered in gold, because they might as well be, considering how people are hoarding them. It makes you wonder how many time they need to wipe their butts. Must be plenty and often, all we can do is pray for their digestive health and also their steep, low morals which they must be leaving behind in the toilet, for creating shortages for other people.

I huddle inside the car, and try to warm my fingers by holding them against the thermostat. The streets of boston are bleak and isolated but you still see a traveller or two without a mask, idly going about thinking nothing can touch them. They think they are being brave, but I pity them for being so stupid. I also feel anger bubbling inside me. My mother is frail, every day she wilts a little more, the cancer inside her eating away at her even with chemotherapy. Everyday we talk to her, willing for her to hold on a little while longer. She doesn't complain but we see the pain she's in. I fear for her, and pray for her.

But my grandmother's death still replays in my head sometimes when I think of my mother, now in the hospital.

I thought heroes were muscled men in flying capes, men and women with superpowers: Laser eyes, superhuman strength and the power to fly. However, looking at you (janitors, doctors, nurses and essential workers), I realize that there is nothing more heroic than fighting against an invisible disease that is praying on our most vulnerable population.

You're worth all the awe superman got as he rescued his people. I want to thank you, with rounds of applause, appreciation posts and more.

From the farmers and cleaners to the head surgeons, I thank you.

It's a human urge to cheer for the under-dog, because that might as well be us, fighting back against a disease that has no cure. Our hopes are stronger, our need to survive phenomenal, to take on all that life throws at us. Love will find a way, even in Quarantine.

The fastest mumps vaccine ever made took 4 years. While I sit at home safe and sound, covered in a quilt and watching netflix, there are scientists who are racing against the clock to make vaccines. It's hours of hard-work and sleepless nights to make the vaccine, for trials to be approved, and the delivery to commence. This vaccine is already on the trial period all thanks to their hard work. Hopefully, it will be on the market during the Fall period. They stay away from your families so that other people will get to see theirs.

Empty shelves, while I visit the supermarket is scary thought. It makes me think of soldiers on the front lines, of cities like Kashmir besieged by tyrants. Of life coming to a stand-still with children not being able to leave for school, not because of a pandemic, but because they are not allowed to. I remember being hungry, the sharp pangs of hurt that demands attention.

Grocery workers are putting themselves at risk to provide us with fresh produce, and keep the shelves stocked. This is sacrifice for the greater good.

My cousin who is a nurse calls us sometimes on the phone, usually at night, because that is when she gets off her shift. Though she's happy to help, I see the strength and will it takes for her to go out everyday, where she takes care of critical patients in her ward. Her son stays with her aunt, because that is where he is safe.

She says that she heard screaming, a patient had collapsed in front of the hospital in Pakistan. This was in the start of february when covid's reality was still dawning on us. She rushed to him, while he gasped for breath, his wife and children on his heels crying and wailing. The paramedics started to put him on the ventilator while he clutched at his chest. Standing there in the room, knowing what it was and unable to do anything. She said she wasn't wearing PPEs at that time. She was exposed, the family crying there was exposed, the helplessness in that moment couldn't have been described.

It makes me ashamed to see the idiocy of some people when think the virus is only a hoax. Also, who send their warriors in without shields and ammunition? I'm ashamed of my government. They are not providing the essential workers with proper PPEs. I saw nurses in New York forced to wear trash bags, because there is simply not enough equipment to go around. You need more support, more protective equipment, better infrastructure so you can continue fighting.

The death rate in USA alone is staggering. If every one of us stayed at home and learned new skills while in quarantine, the death rate will fall. The number of infected tapering off as people become more wiser and don't infect others.

I'm proud of you all. Proud of the strength our nurses show in the face of this frightening disease. Some of you go back to your children, some of you stay away in fear of passing Covid-19 to them. Many of you miss being at home, you miss the warmth of your loved ones, while working hard, sleepless shifts. You do all that when most of you are wearing trash bags. I am ashamed but thankful for your strength.

To the janitors, and essential workers: I see you. The politicians and bankers with high paying jobs who were lauded for years for keeping the economy afloat were helpless while you alone, kept the system from collapsing. You calmed the chaos with your strength and gave us hope that we will defeat this disease.

It frightens me, the lonely way people are dying due to this disease.

People cannot lay their loved ones to rest, cannot say funeral players or kiss them on the forehead, of fear of getting ill themselves because covid-19 can be passed through dead. Imagine your city laid to seige like in Kashmir, a valley already cut off from the world, by a military regimen. Imagine the plight of the health workers there, who were already short on supplies there. Or in Gaza valley, as this artists depicts in his mural. Israel, which surrounds Gaza, tightened the closure of its borders with Gaza, stopping fuel supplies and limiting movement of people for years. All over the world various International organizations have condemned the blockade, which Israel says is meant to stop rockets fired by militants.

The back-bone of every country are the essential workers. The janitors working for minimum wage, makes sure the area around you is clean. Give them the respect they deserve, even after the pandemic. Advocate for their rights, and never forget the sacrifice they commit each time, they step out. So, stay in for them!

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